The Vest
by Chadini
Summary: Hodges witnesses a kiss, Ronnie finds a vest and Brass deals with the aftermath.  Spoilers for Goodbye and Good Luck.  GSR.


The Vest 

The song quoted is _One Headlight_ by The Wallflowers.

David Hodges was excited.

_Very excited. _

In fact, he was more excited now than when he won the Mork and Mindy Shrinky Dinks off of eBay from some kid in Aurillia, Iowa.

He had just witnessed Sara plant one on Grissom.

David Hodges was an eyewitness to one of those kisses that he thought you could only see on TV or in the movies. The kiss was somewhere between a "Ross and Rachel" and a "Mulder and Scully" if that makes any sense. With the X-Files F.B.I. agents, you always thought that something had happened, but you never had any evidence of it. Their kiss was a little "Ross and Rachel" because _finally_, it had happened. Everyone from the lab techs to the CSIs to Judy Tremont had been whispering about a Grissom and Sara romance for as long as he had been there. As far as he knew, it was office gossip even before that. And it all happened right in front of him - in the hallway, outside of the trace lab.

It was a surreal situation. Sara simply walked up to Grissom and without a word she grabbed him and kissed him with everything that she had. Nothing was said by either of them. Afterwards, she just walked away leaving Grissom and Hodges (along with all of the bystanders) having to find a graceful way of shutting their mouths.

By now, everyone knew that Sara and Grissom were together, but no one had witnessed a full-blown public display of affection like that. There was never a confirmed sighting of Sara on Gilbert action. This was too good for Hodges to keep to himself. For him, it was like Christmas morning and Santa had given Hodges all of the best presents and forgotten about all of the other kids in the neighborhood.

After the kiss, both Grissom and Hodges tried to finish their conversation with the utmost level of professionalism, but it just wasn't working. That kiss had obviously scrambled Grissom's brain and he was not hearing anything that Hodges was telling him about the trace found on a glass shard. Which was good because Hodges couldn't for the life of him remember if the glass he was talking about was from a windshield or a water glass.

As Grissom nodded at all of the appropriate points, Hodges' mind started to wander as he began to contemplate the possibilities of catching a contact pheromone buzz.

The two men both looked at each other, realizing that the other was no longer speaking.

Blinking and shaking his head Grissom quickly thanked Hodges for his work and headed down the hall to his office.

"No problem boss!" Hodges waved towards him as he walked back into the trace lab.

Ronnie walked into the doorway of the trace lab with a worn LVPD CSI vest in her hand. She briefly wondered how long it took to break the fabric in. It was almost certainly all crunchy and hard when it was new, and now, it was just soft and a little frayed along the edges. She looked around and observed everyone for a second, as Hodges was deep in conversation with Wendy and Catherine.

"How long do you think it will be before there is a little CSI in the works? Maybe we should check with Warrick and see if there is a pool," Hodges chuckled. Catherine covered her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud. All she could picture was her friends reading every single book written on child rearing and then having long debates on the proper color, size and circumference of a night light.

"Guys…"Ronnie started as she hesitantly stepped into the room.

"Hey Ronnie," Wendy said with a nod. "Well, I think that they'd make great parents. That would be the smartest kid on the block."

"Guys…" Ronnie tried again, this time a little more forcefully.

"Ronnie? What is it?" Catherine asked, thankful for being able to steer the conversation to anything other than Grissom and Sara's love life.

"I found this in my locker," Ronnie said quietly as she held out the vest.

Everyone in the room looked at the vest as if it were a crucial piece of evidence, something that they were afraid to touch.

Catherine was the first to step forward and take the vest from Ronnie. She looked it over and immediately noticed that the name panel was gone and in its place was a piece of masking tape. "Good Luck."

Stepping forward as if she read Catherine's mind, Ronnie held out a small strip of black cloth with stitched white letters. "SIDLE." With a shrug of her shoulders and an embarrassed blush starting to creep up, "I found it in the trash" she offered.

"Where is Sara?" Catherine asked, as she turned around to look through the glass walls.

"Well, she is probably taking some time to cool off after laying one on Grissom in the hall," Hodges offered, trying unsuccessfully to make light of the situation as Wendy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Lately Hodges! Lately! Has anyone seen Sara lately?" Catherine asked, her voice a little too loud.

"I don't think so Catherine," Wendy said.

Catherine gave the vest back to Ronnie and went out in search of Grissom, leaving the others to try and piece things together on their own.

"What do you think that means?' Ronnie asked.

With a sad determination, Wendy said, "I think that it means that Sara could use some of the good luck that she left for you."

As Brass walked out to his car, he tried to decide what to do. He was too keyed up to go home and everyone had turned him down for a drink. Truth be told, he wanted to be around people, but didn't really want to talk to anyone.

He got in his car and as he turned the engine over, he started to think about where he was going to go. The Double Down? Anyplace that calls it self the "Happiest Place on Earth" and is known for bacon martinis and "Ass Juice" seemed like a logical choice, but it was a little late, or early depending on your perspective, and Brass was not ready to deal with some tourist that was living by the "What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas" motto. He shook his head to himself as he pulled out onto Tropicana. He was in no mood for tourists. He then thought about the Peppermill, which was usually another good choice, but it was so completely and utterly Vegas, loud and neon and garish, that he crossed it off of his list. And then he thought that the best choice was usually the easiest. A plain old regular run of the mill bar. No gimmicks. No tricks. No souvenir cups or t-shirts. Just a bar.

He finally settled on O'Sheas. It reminded him of Jersey a bit, and that made him smile a little. Back home in New Jersey, you could always find a good Irish sounding bar. O'Sheas, McGinty's, lots of O'Malley's; the names were just indicators that the focus was going to be on the drink, not the dueling piano bar.

Brass walked in and nodded to the hostess (if you could call her that – menu hander outer was more like it) and pointed towards the bar. He sat at the bar; nodding at a few people, not out of familiarity, but out of solidarity. He enjoyed the camaraderie that they all had in the fact that they were not sightseers, and they were all there for just one reason - to drink. Not to dance or play Golden Tee (well, maybe a little Golden Tee), but to just sit by yourself and drink and make the day go away.

As Brass ordered his drink, he tried to play the events from the past few days over in his mind. How the hell did everything go so horribly, painfully wrong?

"There you go sir, double Jameson on the rocks," the bartender interrupted Brass and his thoughts. As Brass threw a twenty on the bar, he thought that either the bar has started to hire high school kids or he was just getting old. He settled for the latter as he gulped his drink.

They don't make doubles like they used to, he thought to himself as he motioned to the bartender for another.

He knew something was wrong. Things had been wrong for a while. Sara seemed to bounce back to quickly for his liking. Sure, she was a little short with people, a little quiet but that was all to be expected. He figured Gil had it under control. That Grissom would know better than he would what was going on with her. He shook his head to himself as his second drink arrived, listening to the music from the jukebox.

"_So long ago, I don't remember when_

_That's when they say I lost my only friend_

_Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease"_

Looking around Brass thought about the lives of the people around him. What would bring them here? Were they being cheated on? Did they lose their job? Nothing could compete with what he was going through. He had just spent the last 4 hours trying to track Sara down with the hindrance of a semi hysterical Grissom.

"_Dumbass"_ he bitterly thought to himself.

He got the first call that something was wrong from Catherine. She told him the whole story about Ronnie finding Sara's vest in her locker and the name being torn off and her being gone. He went to Sara's old apartment and found out that she hadn't lived there in a year. _A year_. Why didn't he know? Why didn't she tell him?

"_I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn_

_The long broken arm of human law_

_Now it always seemed such a waste_

_She always had a pretty face_

_So I wondered how she hung around this place"_

Time for drink number three as Brass rattled the ice in his empty glass at the bartender again. Thankfully the kid was smart enough not to want to talk about _it_. Bartenders always wanted to talk, except the good ones that could tell when you just wanted to wallow in your own thoughts.

He continued to replay the day in his head, going from Sara's old apartment to Grissom's townhouse. When he pulled in, he was both grateful and apprehensive to find Sara's car still in the driveway. Maybe she just had a bad day. Maybe it was a case or even Ecklie, Christ, she was entitled to a little melt down. In fact, the thought of her having a break down actually made him feel better about the situation. She hadn't said anything to him or anyone else that he knew of about what happened to her and he was worried.

_As he ran up to the door, hand ready to knock, he heard another car screech into the driveway. Grissom. _

"_Jim! Is she here?" he yelled out as he fumbled for his keys to the front door._

"_I don't know. I just got here. Catherine called and…" _

_Grissom barreled past Brass, not waiting for him to finish his sentence. _

"_Sara! Sara! Honey! Where are you?" Grissom yelled in every room in the house. As Brass stepped in he could hear his old friend searching each room, yelling into each one._

Brass could actually feel his heart clench in his chest thinking about Grissom in that townhouse. He took another gulp of his whiskey, trying to drown the sound of his friend's voice – the hopeful tone – as he entered each room - only to be followed by a yell of panic.

'She said it's cold 

_It feels like Independence Day_

_And I can't break away from this parade_

_But there's got to be an opening_

_Somewhere here in front of me_

_Through this maze of ugliness and greed"_

Brass envisioned Grissom as he was frozen in the middle of the living room of his townhouse. The place was so much different than what he remembered. It was still distinctly Grissom, but somehow _different_. There was more color, more chochkis. It seemed brighter. Grissom had then showed Brass the letter that she had left for him and he was instantly afraid for her, afraid of what she might do. Neither man spoke about what they were really thinking. That maybe it was all too much for her and she…Brass shook his head, he couldn't even think the word. He had stayed with Grissom, trying to figure out where she had gone or what had happened to push her over the edge. Grissom started by searching every slip of paper and piece of mail to find a clue. Sara was not answering any texts or phone calls from either of them, so they had to dig through her things.

Both men just had to know that she was all right first, and then they would focus on the reasons why she left. Then Grissom found what he was looking for. A copy of an e-mail - a one-way ticket to San Francisco. _One-Way_.

"_And I seen the sun up ahead_

_At the county line bridge_

_Sayin' all there's good and nothingness is dead_

_We'll run until she's out of breath_

_She ran until there's nothin' left_

_She hit the end-it's just her window ledge"_

Brass looked down at his empty glass, realizing that he had somehow ended up drinking way too much. There was nothing else that he could do to help Sara. He knew that she was safe, and that she had to do this, whatever it was on her own. But he couldn't resist. He opened his phone and while closing one eye to better focus one the tiny keypad, he typed out a message.

"When you're ready, I'll be here. Love, Jim."


End file.
